


Can't Know Until You Try

by elenawrites



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Fourth Year, M/M, Pining, Slytherin Harry, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10079897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenawrites/pseuds/elenawrites
Summary: Having a crush on your best friend isn't always the worst thing, Draco discovers. Written for Jocelyn's (sectumsemprat) birthday and originally posted on tumblr.





	

“You ready, then?”

Draco looked up. The image of him and Harry in the mirror looked rather good if he were being honest, both of them done up in their dress robes and their hair slightly more in place than usual. Well, Draco’s was always in place. Harry’s on the other hand—   

Draco flicked a stray lock of hair from Harry’s forehead— _Merlin_ , it just wouldn’t stay put—and straightened his robes. “Ready.”

Harry grinned at him through the mirror, looking slightly nervous but happy nonetheless. They’d arranged to meet the girls in the common room in a few minutes so they could all walk down to the Great Hall together, Harry bringing Daphne and Draco Pansy. 

“Just as _friends_ ,” he’d been sure to clarify to everyone. Pansy herself didn’t need any reminding, as she’d declared to Draco a month ago that she was _extremely_ gay and if he had an issue, he could fuck off right then. There’d been no need for that, as he’d assured her he didn’t care who she liked as long as their crushes never overlapped. 

Which also was not an issue, judging by the information Pansy had gotten out of him after that. 

Namely that he was half in love with Harry, his best friend. 

There was a special kind of hell in being in love with your best friend, Draco had discovered. There was the seeing the pieces of them no one else did, the earliest mornings and the latest nights, the way they held themselves when no one else was around. There was having a special laugh or smile reserved for you, and a physical relationship just a few steps away from something more.  

And then there was the agony in it all, the seeing all of the little things and knowing you’d never have them, that you were almost there, _almost—_

Draco’s eyes lingered on Harry’s grin in the mirror for a few extra seconds before he dropped his hands and turned away from the glass. 

“You look nice,” Harry observed, still smiling in a way that made Draco’s knees weak. _He’s just excited for the ball,_ Draco told himself. _He’s all nervous and giddy. Don’t get your hopes up._

“Thanks,” Draco said slowly. “You do too.” _Don’t blush, don’t blush or he’ll see._

Harry snorted and ruffled his hair again. “You don’t have to…”

He sighed and turned away from the mirror. 

“Oh, come on,” Draco said, heart twisting a little. “Daphne’ll be head over heels.“ 

Harry grinned again. “I told you, we’re not like that.“ 

"Of course you’re not _now_ , but after tonight I’m sure she’ll be infatuated with you.”

“Shut up,” Harry laughed. 

“I’m calling it,” Draco said, starting out the door. “Tomorrow morning she’ll be all awkward at breakfast, I know it.”

“Sure,” Harry said from behind Draco. “But first let’s just see how she feels tonight after the first dance of me tripping over her feet.”

Draco didn’t know how Daphne would feel, but he knew he wouldn’t mind a few squashed toes if it meant he could be the one dancing with Harry.

—

“Merlin,” Harry said, dropping himself into the chair next to Draco. “That was a nightmare.”

The first dance had just finished, and, despite Harry’s complaining, Draco had thought Daphne enjoyed herself greatly. He’d watched her with Pansy from the crowd of students around the dance floor, felt a pang of jealously every time she’d giggled and leaned closer to Harry. 

Pansy had stood on her toes to see the dancing couples, then turned to Draco and sighed. “Draco, I know you don’t want to hear this—" 

"Then don’t say it, please.”

“—but this is kind of pathetic.” She flicked a finger to point at Harry. “You’ve got to figure it out, you can’t just keep—”

“Oh, but I _can_ ,” Draco said, desperate to change the subject. “Should we dance, then?" 

Pansy rolled her eyes and took his arm. "Running from it won’t help, you idiot.”

Draco ignored her and brought them out to the dance floor, but the words had kept replaying in his head.

 _I’m not running,_ he’d thought. _This is self-preservation. I’m saving myself, because nothing will ever come of it._

“Harry,” said Pansy, sliding into the seat on the other side of Draco. “There’s a girl over there ogling you. From Beauxbatons.”

Harry and Draco both turned to where Pansy was looking. Sure enough, there was a slight, shimmering girl dressed in pale blue robes smiling at Harry and laughing with her friend. Draco watched Harry’s cheeks color as he turned back around. 

“Erm,” he coughed. “Not really my type, I don’t think." 

Pansy shrugged and shot a poisonous smile at Draco. "Suit yourself. I’m going to go talk to that Durmstrang girl over there, it doesn’t look like she’s brought a date.” She flounced off in the direction of the girl, and Draco turned back to Harry. 

“Hungry?”

Harry smiled. “Starved.”

They took a menu off the stack in the center of the table and studied the options, both picking foods they’d never heard of to try. 

“Where’s Daphne?” Draco said cautiously. _Please don’t say she’s on her way, I just want to be here with you for a moment, please, please—_

“She wanted to keep dancing,” said Harry, “so I told her to go right ahead. I think she picked up some bloke from Beauxbatons.”

Draco tried not to sigh in relief too loudly. 

“Oh, alright…” He picked up his fork and pointed at his food. “So, um, what do you think this is?”

Harry laughed and moved his chair closer, making Draco’s heart start beating faster in his chest. 

“I dunno,” Harry said, “isn’t your mum French? Shouldn’t you know?”  
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed in mock exasperation. “Well, I can’t know _everything_ , Potter." 

Harry grinned and slipped Draco’s fork from his fingers, sending little sparks into Draco’s hand. "Well,” he said, digging into the mystery food and bringing the fork to his mouth, “I guess you can’t know until you try." 

 _You can’t know until you try,_ Draco thought as Harry tasted his food, _but what if I can’t try for fear of ruining everything? What then?_

Draco found another fork and began to eat.

—

"Draco?”

“Yeah?”

Draco heard Harry take a breath beside him. “D'you want to dance?”

Draco blinked at the crowd and turned to Harry slowly.

“Do I… What?”

“Dance,” Harry said, blushing just a tiny bit. “They’ve just said it’s going to be the final fast song of the night, and I thought… Pansy and Daphne are over there, and we could…”

Draco looked to his right and saw Pansy and Daphne dancing around each other, laughing and throwing their hands in the air. 

“I thought you didn’t like dancing,” Draco said.

Harry shrugged. “Never said I didn’t _like_ it. I’m just terrible at the ballroom stuff, and it’s the last one before there’s more of that all night.” He grinned. “Plus, we should stop eating so many French desserts. This would distract us.”

_He wants to dance with me, as a friend as a friend as a friend, remember you’re friends!_

“Dance,” said Draco. “Yeah, alright.”

He wasn’t prepared for Harry’s smile then, and he definitely wasn’t prepared for Harry grabbing his hand and dragging them out to near where Pansy and Daphne were. 

“Hello, boys!” called Daphne, doing something with her hips that Draco didn’t understand. Pansy just smirked and shot Draco a meaningful look. Draco glared back at her.

—

When they got back to the dormitory, Draco could barely keep his eyes open. He wasn’t sure if it was how much food they’d eaten or the dancing or both, but he felt like he could fall into bed, dress robes and all, and sleep for a year.  

Harry, on the other hand, seemed pretty awake. He laughed softly at nearly everything Draco said. It was almost as if he was drunk, though Draco knew he hadn’t taken a sip of alcohol all evening. He decided that Harry was just tired and glad everything had gone well, and didn’t think much else of it until they’d started getting ready for bed.

And then Draco thought about it a lot.

Harry took off his dress robes and pulled on an old t-shirt and pajama pants. He crawled into the bed to the left, resting his head on the pillow and closing his eyes. Which wouldn’t have been odd if it weren’t Draco’s bed.

_Draco’s bed._

“What’re you doing?”

Harry spoke without opening his eyes. “I’m going to sleep, what’re you still doing over— _oh_.”

Draco stayed still while Harry opened his eyes and looked around the bed. “Hm. This is yours.”

“Yes, that’s my bed.”

Harry sat up slightly, but made no move to get out. “Are you really going to make me move now that I’m comfortable? Me, your best friend”

 _If I were going to make you move, it would be for my own sanity, you idiot,_ Draco thought. He still didn’t move, and for a moment, neither did Harry.

“Alright, I’m getting out, you can _—_ “

Draco broke in. “Oh, shut up, you can stay.”

Harry smiled and flopped back onto the bed. “Thanks.”

“Sure, you’ll just owe me later.” Draco walked over to the edge of the bed, heart pounding at what he was going to do. “Move over, you can’t have the whole thing.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and Draco felt his cheeks get hot, because why would they share the bed if Harry’s was empty right next to it? _Why? Because I’m in love with him and it’s making me do stupid things._

Nevertheless, Harry moved over, and Draco slid into the bed. It was already warm from where Harry was laying, and Draco felt completely at ease and on edge at the same time.

“So,” Draco said, because he was being  _stupid stupid stupid, why can’t I just let us fall asleep?_   “Where did Daphne get off to earlier?”

“I told you,” Harry said with a yawn, “she went dancing with a Beauxbatons boy.”

“And after that?”

Harry sighed. “I dunno, ‘s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything. Told you I don’t see her like that.”

Draco was going to regret his next words, he was going to regret this, he was—

His voice was quiet; he tried to hide the little tremble. “Who do you see like that, then?”

They were both silent for a moment, and Draco began to panic internally. Harry just _looked_ at him, green eyes travelling from Draco’s own gray to Draco’s _lips_ , to back at his eyes.

Draco just stared back, certain Harry knew. Everything felt charged now, and Draco felt it was growing warmer in the bed.

“Am I supposed to take this silence as an answer?” he whispered. “Because you’re making me think…” He was speaking without thinking now.

Harry’s eyes were back on his lips. “Yeah, I think you’ve got an answer.”

Draco, heart pounding and _pounding,_ leaned in.

—

Daphne was not the awkward one at breakfast the next morning. That was Draco, but it only lasted until Pansy wolf-whistled with one look at them. Harry laughed and took his hand. All Draco could do was smile at the ground, blushing.

The Yule Ball had gone a bit better than anyone had expected, Draco decided.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback and comments are always appreciated; thanks for reading!


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